yikes
I was tending to some comic matters on Monday; I will see about getting this out of here on Tue’s day.
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It got stupider than I was expecting. That is probably good. It is possibly very, very bad, however. I will try Wedne’s day instead.
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I was shocked as anyone to learn today that Stephen Colbert will not, as I reported earlier, be replacing Barbara Walters on “The View.”
However, the same source assures me that Barbara Walters still intends to replace Alex Trebek.
Alex Trebek, of course, is leaving Jeopardy in 2016 to replace The Ultimate Warrior.
Stephen Colbert will be replaced by Comedy Central’s next-biggest star, ventriloquist Jeff Dunham, who will be replaced by a battle bot.
Daniel Tosh was not in the running, obviously, because he is set to replace Nelson Mandela, who himself replaced Carlos Mencia.
Ben Stein will not be replacing anyone since I managed to temporarily forget that he existed.
As for Craig Ferguson, his contract calls for him to get a late night show on CBS five years after some guy from the Daily Show gets it.
I posted something roughly equivalent to these on twittarrrgh yesterday (yeserday being Thursday). Nobody cared. Nor should they have. I do not do things worth caring about on Twitter. From the looks of things almost nobody does. When they do it makes no sense and I am hoping to catch one of those fluke flows of interest by posting garbage because I never learned any useful skills. Still, it was a much faster and to the point not-caring than accompanied my classic “late night show” related commentary, that I often spent hours dwelling on and putting together.
At one point in my life, when I had approximately less friends than now, I watched many of such programs, and despite whatever inept, skewed idea of how people talk to each other this left me with, I drew my best pictures while peripherally acknowledging and occasionally looking directly at these shows.
I also used to write about them a lot, and from my recollection I primarily complained and it was terrible..
Recently I have written much about them, again but more out of habit and compulsion than because I thought my gripes about what is not entertaining are entertaining. Hopefully that will stay buried.
I had not watched any of the old late night hosts regularly for fivish finkel years, but I liked knowing they were around. I liked there being video evidence that someone I understood and liked before I became stuck in my ways still existed and interacted with the world in the present. Outside my immediate family, and sometimes not even in it, nobody I knew in the 1990s has any contact with me now. These oafs in suits were important to me. They were consistent, and they were just mature enough that I did not arbitrarily decree myself too smart to watch them like I did with stuff that came on earlier (I did not start watching stupid wrestling until 2001ish, I think). Unfortunately, when one of them becomes moderately newsworthy I feel compelled to comment, and that again forces me not only to give it priority I can hardly spare, but also to be unique among commenters, which is not my trait when the topic is relatively normal people.
Now Jay Leno is gone, David Letterman is going, Alex Trebek is going. Alex Trebek is on television earlier in the day and not an especially entertaining presence, not deliberately, but I have to think whoever is put on instead of him will be distinctly irritating. I will be surprised if the Muppets last another 10 years. But that is part of life, right? The stuff you used to like goes away and you cannot stop it. But in my case the stuff I like almost invariably is a few decades older than me. I am stuck in a past I never lived in. And that is absurd; I rely on a computer for almost all things and can create little without it, and society’s attitude toward the mentally ill has improved considerably even in just the last few years. I would be profoundly disabled at this age if I had lived ten years earlier, and if I had lived ten years later I would only have smirky computer cartoons to watch and would be expelled and arrested if I drew pictures of bats killing each other with swords and bombs while at school. I was fortunate! I was merely quietly redistributed to various special education programs throughout the state who saw to it that I learned no skills, that would lead to me panicking about garbage I posted on twitter years later. If my life had gone some other way, this whole post here would be a lie because I did not do any of these things and reading it would be a huge waste of time.
I like Colbert –and I am surprised how much I do; back in 1999 I didn’t understand why Brian Unger and A Whitney Brown got fired but his uninspiring dorkiness got to stay on– but I also like that he only has a half hour program, that he stays in character during interviews, which I now skip on other “talk” programs, and that Comedy Central makes really cheap deals with the musical guests so their performances (or anything related to Breaking Bad for some reason) are usually deleted by the time I get to the show they appeared on in the online archive, since I have been perpetually three months behind for the past year, which prevents me from forcing myself to listen to music I hate just because it seems unfair to dismiss them without a chance to prove themselves. So then with those segments skipped I can more quickly tend to something else of importance, like watching the next day’s show and only being 2 months and 29 days behind.
I worry that I have lost the ability to become fan of new things. Is it stubborn contrariness? Do I sincerely not like the way television and films are made? Am I impossibly jealous as a result of never accomplishing anything, with people younger than me continually arriving and getting recognition? Yes, but is it permanent?
I will not run out of entertainment; I have 15 years of missed video games to deal with, and I still like the old ones that I liked before, and some more than I formerly liked them (though perhaps just as many that I like less). Likewise there are plenty of television shows and films that exist that I have not yet had a chance at. But I am not likely to share an interest with contemporary society again.
I started watching Conan O’Zarkike’s program again (as I divulged) when I started to fixate on these topics, but he is still the Conan that I -stopped- watching a few years ago based on his increasing desire to turn himself into one of those contemporary sorts that I cannot stand, by begging for viewer submissions or devoting uncomfortably large portions of airtime to sponsored content. A few days after I posted this, they showed an Xmen-themed movie trailer straight out during time usually reserved for a comedy attempt piece. One of the pioneers of messing with pretentious movie footage to make it sillier is now content to deliver ads direct, and then show a commercial break. It is not just a matter of Conan pleading with the audience/advertisers to like him after losing a prestigious job; he was doing this before he got and lost that job (the xmen preview was a new low, though). I would not shut up about it. Even the few that I like are disappointing. I have a huge problem.
And worse! I found out just today that Conan’s show used approximately the same joke about Barbara Walters as I did, two nights before I did, because they are put on the Tbs website late and I watch them yet later than that. That there is Conan O’Brien’s semi-cohost Andy Richter inserted into a clip from The View in a sketch that I was too distracted to pay attention to because I was horrified that I now looked like I had ripped this joke off of someone else on twitter. And I actually twittered the joke AT Stephen Colbert’s account. Nobody famous would ever have awareness of anything I did UNLESS I had done something derivative or terrible, and theoretically I would be blocked forever after the first error. So now Stephen Colbert hates me. But since I only think that it is not enough to make me too bitter to watch his show and at least free myself from the never ending duty to watch his program that never stops being made.
It is fine here; I can explain it, and we are surrounded by things too dumb for anyone else to have thought of, providing ample evidence that I have no desire to copy anyone else. But on twitter I only get one chance and no space to explain anything. If I mention something twice I look crazy. Anybody who looks awkward on twitter is dead to the world, unless their gimmick is to be awkward and not think things through. I think things near, far, over, under and through and am still too awkward to acknowledge.
In fact I only know Barbara Walters is retiring at all because of an earlier Conan-related Barbara Walters joke so I cannot even claim that I did not know. Theoretically, nobody else has any awareness of anything I like except momentarily for the purposes of thinking I ripped it off. See I can’t win in this, so it is better if nobody reads my posts. It is not all that original a joke either because its effectiveness depends on the idea of a man taking a woman’s place being inherently funny. I personally disagree on the grounds that Barbara Walters is funny to mention for many reasons, but I am not in any condition to elaborate at this time. Gosh i did not come here to talk about this! I watched the non-guest segments of Tuesday’s Conan as I was eating halfway through formatting this. I am only days behind on that, rather than years, because O’Brien’s gang does not keep old episodes on the internet indefinitely like Colbert’s does, forcing me to be up to date. If there is in fact a complete archive, and for some reason you know about it, please do not tell me. Even skipping the interviews I do not have time to be watching 3 tv shows (I also still watch the Jon Stewart Daily Show from months behind. That is another old gripe. But gee Chris Christie sure closed that bridge lane, didn’t he!).
Somebody probably did that Craig Ferguson joke already, too. Who, I have no idea. There are too many people that I have to beat at everything and even if I do it will not matter, but I am obsessed with trying. And again it is not a joke that is good enough that I should have been heralded for making it, but I should be shunned for taking it. I didn’t, but surely to somebody I look like I did. I will always lose unless I do dumb, useless things. And we all knew that already! So this is also useless, and I need less useless things cluttering my mind, so I must dump them here or risk tripping over them in the dark and injuring myself.
My next post will probably be about Mr. Peanut.
Uf FINALLY. I have been waiting years to find a half tomato in a sealed plastic bag at the side of the road. Yes I will absolutely put this at the foremost position of the website whose url I print on my business cards that I paid to have printed and do give to people that I expect to have a sincere interest in what I am doing.
I did not think I had come out here to look for it, but once I found it I knew I must have been seeking it. And thank Rygar for the bag to keep the specimen in good condition. It is a sign.
You blasted yung’uns need to slow down! There are packaged, forgotten fragments of food in places that make no sense that you are totally missing! I would be interested in knowing what you think is so much more important (but surely LESS interested than I am in my present focus).
Why, it inspires me to know that my life could well be filled with such discoveries from this point.
Good night! Fantasy distractions can no longer compete.
But wha…!
Well that DOES change things.
I have a comic update ready, but I am so disgusted with the character called “nemitz” at the moment that I need more time to prepare my presentation of grievances.
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Nothing I like better after dinner than a good brand. Ah, what delectable trademarks. You can really taste the copyright. If I am feeling quite decadent I will sprinkle on some focus group.
In fact my hands are drawn to things which rhyme with them, so in the absence of a brands I will sometimes just have stands until the craving disbands. My life is rather bland. It did not turn out as I planned.
The red computer m&m with a face has passed beyond edgy attitude into brazen hostile jerkiness. This thing appears to genuinely hate its life shilling for the mass consumption of its tiny, speechless evolutionary forebears.
You may recall how last year pop secret genetic engineering experiments dating back to World War 2 were exposed, with the surviving progeny of the original subjects liberated at last. At this time they are gradually being introduced into the populace. You could learn from them, red computer m&m! They still remember what it means to be subjugated, and choose to embrace life and live it as best they can, shilling for the mass consupmtion of their tiny speechless evolutionary forebears.
More glorious stix. On the topic of embracing the bad position you have been given, SwirlStix has decided to unsheath the mystery flavor. And why not, I say, if we already use mystery ingredients. The stix have combined their ingredients in such a way as to produce something that the scientists agree has a taste, but they cannot identify a conventional earthly edible whose taste this vaguely resembles.
I had long presumed that Kirby was not at liberty to disclose the contents of the magic food bag, but perhaps, far from being pop secret, simply nobody knows.
Quite simply, due to the magic density, the magic food bag is opache and cannot be seen through. Placing your stix into a blox may assist you in determining their contents once you tire of holding them up, but it is only a temporary solution.
There is a solution to this but it was not known in Kirby’s time. The visual clarity of its contents notwithstanding, magic food bag is immensely superior to a regular food bag
Food Bag is so crummy that nobody would ever stop there, and thus the sign can only be photographed while speeding past it, requiring the resultant skewed-perspective picture to be stretched horizontally to be legible on a website, which makes it appear to be collapsing, which never completely occurs, a tantalizing affair. Food Bag, despite being horrid, is superior to foot bag.
On November 11 2007 I wrote a several-hundred word rambling anecdote about how stupid I think foot bag is that ends with “That sounds like a sock a hobo would wear” which I think is the most important point and the reason I went looking for the anecdote half an hour ago.
Which is not to say I was looking to look at one in action. Great gimpity. I cannot think of anything dumber than that.
I am going to ignore that as long as I am able.
I was inspired by an objectifying photograph of a woman kicking a lump in some most certainly awful publication with the corrrrrrrny caption “FOOT BAG BEAUTY” but that I otherwise neglected to collect any evidence of. Stop the presses: FOOT BAG BEAUTY. Calling all cars: FOOT BAG BEAUTY. Spy Kids 3D: FOOT BAG BEAUTY.
Additionally, Foot Bag concerns my sole experience with an Atari Lynx. On a terrible school bus ride, one student had a Sega Game Gear, and only awful licensed games. I myself also had a Game Gear and after that experience I became convinced and afraid of its badness. Particularly the audio component, the only component that could get me while on the bus if I was not within visual range, despite my comparatively functional selection of games. So then another student had an Atari Lynx, and seemingly only one cartridge, California Games, and it was worse. The worst California Game was “Foot Bag.” A mess of pixels vaguely identifiable as a human being kicked a smaller mess of pixels, with that being the goal in itself, and you, the player, used 20th century technology to press buttons to facilitate this without even needing to be near an electrical outlet for the 20 minutes or so your 16 double-A batteries lasted. After seeing the worst california game, I was convinced the Lynx must also be the worst game system, because if better games had been possible somebody surely would have made one, and I was presented with no evidence of this. Our state that spanning most latitude and containing the most people and these were the best games software company Epyx could come up with to define the whole, and then ported this to every video platform. It makes me want to go back in time 18 years and die abruptly after playing it.
Foot bag is not an event! At best it is a prevent.
According to wikehhhpedia that foot bag portion of the game specifically was coded by Ken Nicholson, who also invented DirectX, which meant I could not install a game on my computer without hassle for the next ten years. Later the XBox video “game” system was itself named for the X in DirectX, which brought recreation of actions I had no interest in to new heights of realism and popularity, and therefAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY FOOT’S BEEN BAGGED
I think that reaction is in excess of what is called for.
I get ideas when I go for walks. I think “maybe I could execute a backflip right here” in the street, and then I think that I will probably fail, and so badly that it kills me, and then people will wonder why there was suddenly a dead person in the road. Perhaps investigators could determine that I had fallen, but would they be able to figure out that I had tried to jump in a stupid way first? By the angle of damage and apparent velocity of the impact? Or would it just be “ruled an accident?” Why am I considering so far beyond my inevitable foolish death? I would hate the populace to think I had become dead for no reason. I was TRYING to DO something specific! I hate to be misunderstood, especially when I am dead.
This comic will run on your Amstrad system.
At GNC the store, you need to specially ask for a health supplement that is not candy. Everything in here is kool aid/nesquik drink mix, undersized baby ruth bars or magically nastier jolly-ranchers. If you are legitimately concerned about your nutrition you should eat actual food. You would feel better and still have money left over to spend on real candy. Even if you paid somebody to make it for you it would probably cost less. GNC means “General Nutrition Center” but the sort of nutrition offered is rather bizarre.
I realize these are called “supplements,” which means they are meant to be used in addition to a normal diet, but captain crunch claims it is part of a complete breakfast. I am inclined to believe most people do not use these in that way because they get drawn in by mentions in this sort of publication, and also it is easier to laugh at the idea of people being reasonable if they are not.
Dr. Dan CNN BVD is way too enthusiastic about red yeast rice
If you knew me in middle school, you know I will put anything in my body if a bunch of guys with big shoulders and a token little guy who has rich parents tell me to do it while they laugh at me. Now things are different; I require them to have white jackets on.
Or blue ones, sir, please, whatever you want.
Hey did you know that GNC delivers for FREE? no probably not because if you were paying attention to financial matters you would notice that you just paid $25 for a little bottle of rice. You can buy a 60 pound barrel of rice for that money. It would not be RED, of course, but if you starve yourself effectively enough you may be able to cough up some blood on to it.
Somebody at some point in the management chain is certain I will magically steal their recipe for yeast rice with my camera, so the employee on the job had to task of suggesting that I not take pictures of the product, even though I think it would have done a better service to their business if they had stopped me from taking the first picture. In any event this was probably the least de-humanizing “do not take pictures of our property” demand I had experienced.
I am sure you are curious: the most de-humanizing “do not take pictures of our property” demand was when I was friendless, drenched in some rather unreasonable rain, cold, lost and hopelessly behind on school assignments that I could not tend to for another whole day of wasteful anxiety, in an apparently affluent and therefore more entitled to make visitors hate themselves section of London, amidst my ill-ehhhed Paris visit of July 2013. Scorned by the rich, dry, well-fed scumbags with no regard for
no please I have had enough red yeast rice I am feeling better now please!
Anyway I started to type that story for here and it was surprisingly depressing!
In fact most things related to my French experiments were depressing. Sometimes I worked harder than was required or likely to be appreciated to make them so.
1 I dwell in an apartment with my two brothers whom I rarely see. I am sad and ridiculous.
2 My friends and I, together we never talk on the telephone. They think I am boring.
3 The American men watch the French films, but they do not understand. They eat always.
4 The American women prepare dinner for the men. They (females) are unhappy.
The firefox spellchecker, unaware that I had switched from English, insisting that every word was wrong, may have had a subconscious inferiority effect on me. If forced to talk about myself I was unwilling to present a false impression of my existence. And it got sadder than that since one of the brothers left right away, to be replaced by slightly less trustworthy sorts and the other was barely around to sort out the replacement, whom I imagined it was not my position to criticize since I had not invited him in there, and if I had he would have been my GUEST and yet less deserving! So when actual depressing things happened to me in France or as a direct result of me going there I ought to have been prepared to explain, but the more depressing fact was that I failed to pick up any of the language in two years beyond the ability to read a few words that pertained directly to depressing aspects of my then home life and they had little resemblance to the circumstances of my later depressing outside of home life.
I wonder if I wrote things like that because I wanted to make people concerned so they would ask how I was doing.
It was always upsetting to find out they just dropped in to see what condition my toilet was in.
A series of more overt outbursts recently on the internet, the sort I avoided at people for on Livejournal 10 years ago made me realize no, I do not want most people to ask how I am doing. It will be unpleasant unless I am doing better, and when I am doing better I will feel less bad about not being asked. The problem solves itself!
I have an idea. I will change the subject.
Here is a depressing fountain.
I will have to try again later!
Fortunately I at least have mildly consistent internet access.
Market research has determined that processed artificial cheese goop is not disgusting enough, so this graphic that emphasized its unnatural color and staining properties as well as its unearthly drippy ooze-properties was called necessary.
Like every other bad thing, dyed chemical slop sludge now encourages its users to think they are talented, clever and powerful just for liking it. People don’t criticize cheez-whiz for being a science fiction nazi-like horror that goes against everything your intestines stand for, right? They’re just “haters” who can’t handle how unique and epic it is and that you also are for using it, and having simplified the issue like that you thus need not consider trying to see your behavior from another perspective.
It is true that I hate liquid processed cheese product and that this is not a nuanced issue that I have researched at length. However, some things simply deserve to be hated.
The first frozen burrito laboratory-tested and guaranteed to cause post-traumatic stress disorder. Nothing to hate there. I didn’t say I was going to give examples of hatable things! This cheese flavor is at least non-wet. My disapproval for cheese as colored ooze is enough that I temporarily overlook my disappoval for cheese as colored dust, though not enough that I accept salt-shaker as a funamental factor in nacho creation.
Anyway, which of these bad Barbie Christmas movies should we buy? Be not concerned that you cannot read the labels under this horrible lighting; these covers were not designed for readers.
It is BarbieTM AS Eden StarlingTM. But you know it is really BarbieTM playing the part because BarbieTM‘s charisma and screen presence are unmistakable, and you would know that if you had been watching
The Barbie Channel. Nobody bloops and polls quite like Barbie. The first bloop was likely the sound of Barbie dropping her TM into the pool.
Excuse me, that is Turbie. Totally different. Turbie does not get to pretend to be other people on film. Turbie just wears a folded towel out of a plastic bag on her head and pretends this is an astounding innovation. Barbie only shills for new and wonderful things like Barbie.
Do not be confused since they have both been seen on tv; that could just mean Turbie has been arrested on Cops 2.0 or sold into slavery on QVC. Turbie has never been seen on the Barbie Channel. The Barbie studio guards have been ordered to arrest Turbie on sight, and equip her with an iron mask and escort her to the north tower. You will never be king, Turbie! Your TM shall be confiscated and offered as turbute to the one true bie on the block.
To get back to the main topic, as a psychologically buried alternate personality of Barbie, Eden Starling’s name is marketable and trademarked, despite being a stand-in for Ebenezer Scrooge who caused much suffering during the prime years of his life and is not somebody whom children should emulate, because unlike Ebenezer Scrooge, Eden Starling is Barbie and pretty and perfect and glamorous and doesn’t have a scary name. Eden Starling knows that it’s what is inside that counts, which is why her cruelty did not “freeze [her] old features” as happened to Scrooge. This film shows that you can turn your life around and be positive so long as you’re rich, young, unblemished and Barbie. I am curious how this handles the section in which Barbie orders a peasant to go out and buy Christmas dinner for her clerk costume designer and childhood friend.
“Do you know whether they’ve sold the prize can of Red Bull that was hanging up there? Not the little can; the big one?”
“What, the one as big as me?” returned the boy girl.
“What a delightful boy girl!” said Scrooge Starling. “It’s a pleasure to talk to him her. Yes, my buck doe! That should suffice to keep all the house hold awake all the day and provide ample liquid material to comprise the bileous humours which shall accompany more solid, less desirable nourishments during the traditional post-meal expulsion”
Barbie’s caloric intake fits in well with Victorian London, I now imagine. This is probably the only Christmas Carol adaptation in which the hardened protagonist could abuse people by encouraging them to take better care of themselves.
According to Barbie Movies Wiki, instead of Jacob Marley, Eden Starling is visited by Aunt Marie, whose cruelty in life was forbidding Eden/Barbie to celebrate Christmas. The ghost of Christmas Present informs Barbie that her coworkers tease her but actually want to be like her. In Christmas yet-to-come, Barbie fires her staff and the replacements “fail to live up to her expectations.” Barbie’s former servant became a famous fashion designer but would not help Barbie due to her past selfishness.
The moral of this story: be nice to Barbie, so Barbie can be nice to other people who will become famous so that they can also be nice to Barbie and not leave her to depend on people who aren’t good enough for Barbie, everyone’s idol. Instead of dying alone and having nobody want to go to her funeral and her belongings plundered, with children left to die from her stinginess, Barbie just loses some money and though she receives no charity her former friend will at least acknowledge her existence. I am fascinated by the idea of an official Mattel “visibly poor” destitute Barbie but I could only turn up parody editions while searching for “poor barbie” and I am certainly not going to watch this thing, although if I had done that instead of writing this I would have been done by now and would have been too heart-warmed to dare analyze it.
Barbie Movies Wiki also inadvertently contradicts the hype on the DVD box proclaiming this as the first Barbie Christmas movie, which was actually Barbie Nutcracker. Maybe Ken had the right idea all along.
Ah good, TMothy is back. Yet I wonder: What would happen if Mattel printed the name “barbie” without adding TM afterward? WHAT WOULD HAPPEN? Why does TM NEED to be there EVERY time? We know Barbie is powerful. She can handle it.
No foe has been able to stand up to Barbie since she was bitten by a radioactive box. They try and they fall down laughing.
So cruel, and yet so necessary.
What a dork of a gargoyle! With buck teeth, at that; you fool! That is less than three quarters of a euro! You can’t buy anything with that!
Gargoyle trouble is nothing new around here, alas. And the news only gets worse.
I was told the Paris trip would “change [my] life” but nothing could have prepared me to learn such ancient secrets. There is so much unknown knowledge in the world. But I must look and acknowledge.
And maybe I want him wear a wizard hat and big silly earmuffs but I imagine I won’t get mentioned on the heffalump post for saying so. I like to imagine the blue lumps in the lower corners are this person’s hands in boxing gloves.
I will not watch this oaf’s head and his closet and his cans of cooking spray and his television screen with bottles in front of it. I do not take obvious advice from somebody in such a hurry to video record his mouth any time words come out of it that he is oblivious to his own surroundings. My own room is a mess but if I were putting pictures of it on the internet I would know my room was a mess prior to somebody else seeing these pictures. I certainly do not take orders to receive advice from sources with really crummy taste in advice.
Then I don’t give a fuh hyphen hyphen kuh what she thinks. How about that! Or is that the whole point? I don’t know because the thoughts of others no longer matter to me! We can just scowl at each for eternity, would you prefer that? Don’t bother answering!
Aren’t rappers typically characterized by being vulgar and not caring what anyone thinks? how is this special? saying a rapper uses harsh language and minimally regards the views of others is like saying an anthropomorphous video game animal runs fast and has a bad attitude.
and shouldn’t “Socially Conscious” include giving a hump what people think? We need social consciousness to protect ourselves from people who don’t give flocks of consideration to what we think. How can you be conscious and willfully oblivious simultaneously? Am I supposed to be glad and want to support the career of this person who wants me to know that she thinks my perception is worthless?
To be fair, during the previous occasion in which I lost my mind over a stupid huffington puffington ost headline, it turned out to be a ruse just to get people to click on the thing, and the entire article an empty circle that only existed to support a provocative headline. I will not be the person to determine how this situation has been misrepresented to DARE me into looking at it because in the end I don’t enjoy having people yell at me angrily regardless of the beat behind it.
I am not going to support this click economy anymore. If the only way to make me look at something is to imply that I am inadequate, so that I must investigate, so to sort out the details and convince myself of my adequacy or become adequate through acquiring the knowledge, then I will simply not look. I do not know this writer and this writer does not know me. The headline writer cannot even decide on the most effective way to not type out the ehhhhhf word but still get internet edginess credit for implying that they said it (I find that 
works well). The acidic individual may well give consonants and punctuation marks what I think if we met but I know that we have not. I wrote up something specifically on the topic, we will see if I get to it.
is there no fuck trigger? Or do you tell people who ask for one that they are exaggerating the state of their psychological condition for attention and sympathy?
Why exuberantly celebrate this anyhow? are you glad that you need trigger warnings? A more appropriate title would be “oh trigger warnings. I must resignedly admit that these are preferable to being triggered.”
No, I am offended, or perhaps disgusted by the hyperbolic, always in love or always in hate attitude. Why sit on the ground nude in cold darkened grottoes if it puts you in a mood like this? Maybe I am just concerned.
My gripe is specifically with the gerund ing form, used so ubiquitously that it lost most meaning. It was meant to add emphasis, but since it never was not present, it only emphasized a lack of self-control or self-awareness. A desire to be unpleasant toward anybody who is not totally in on your babyish self-indulgence.
I think you just need to calm down.
Click here for the shocking exposé
As an unofficial United Americonia ambassador to France, I feel it is my obligation to share the most beautiful sights of its capital city with anyone who gets in my way. Here now midway through my experience -on my host country’s most celebrated day of celebration, no less- are pictures taken at some of the grandest and also some lesser known (but no less grand) spots.
La Tour Eiffel
Notre Dame de Paris
Arc de Triomphe
Place de l’Alma
Musée Carnavalet
Jardin des Tuileries
Jardin du Luxembourg
Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte
Jardin du Carrousel
Musée du Louvre
And finally, since I have not been able to upload any real art of my own in quite some whiles,
Peter Paul Rubens’ “The Council of the Gods” from the Marie de’ Medici cycle at the Musée du Louvre
If I can afford to get in, that is!
You’ve got food on your back
You’ve got clothes in your mouth
You should be FVCKIN’ HAPPY
I was concerned that the “ol roy” interlude in my previous item was underinspired and dull, but I forgot how much uninspiration inspires people, and so he has already been promoted to Southern Connecticut State Universitti grafitti creative consultant.
Apart from the prominent FUCKIN’ this seemed too consciously peculiar to be written by a student here without an outside source, and sure enough, it is a lyric from some song that I suspect is meant to be a facetiously daft take on traditionally daft oversimplifying “message” songs, although regardless of sincerity it is musically awful. Awfulness strengthens the experience. And so what might be my initial assumption, that taking the line out of context of the bad song might improve it, seeing it scratched into a wall is less awful than hearing it sung and so, in fact, it is worse. It reminds me of another good old time, however.
I took a number of pictures from a car that day. Almost none looked like anything afterward. Somehow I have two totally legible shots of this sign. It must be my destiny to document this. Or maybe the car stopped and we got out here. I cannot decide which is worse.
Common Man, first of uh, is a sellout shill. The interior of his domain is filled with “common man” branded merchandites. While no doubt the marketing and quality of product was nothing beyond common, you don’t get to pretend you uphold the interests of oppressed, hardworking people when you charge them $20 for a mass-produced shirt that provides the most rudimentary insulation with a logo on it. I don’t have pictures of that, either!
alright, it probably wasn’t as lazy as this one.
It really isn’t hard to make a terrible shirt! This is outside of relevance!
More important than common man or his awful wears or what’s worse than them is his slogan. When I passed the sign the first time, I was certain the letters spelled up “drink in sand, feet in hand.” I wondered how anybody driving could see that and that not get into a horrific accident trying to make logical sense of it. Anything else it might say would be corny and pointless. I was so taken that I had to commemorate the experience with a tiny drawing in a notebook. Somewhere I could find it again but that less enlightened folks would never come across and make a quarrel over out of jealousy. Today I scanned it and traced it. Aren’t you proud!
Who needs good food and down home cold hard ice cream when they have feet in hand? What more do you need? You’re all but set for a good long while. A tragic existence, to never know the possibility of feet in hand.
My sister formerly had a section of her facebook account detailing “one night in hand,” a yearly event for graduators at the Daniel Hand High School of Madison, Connecticut, including all manner of chaperoned mischief that I have no idea about because I never attended that school and my sister deleted that account months ago. Perhaps out of despair of night in hand not comparing to feet in hand.
Remembering that my camera was borrowed occasionally back in those times, I searched for evidence and found none. Here is, however, a picture that I discovered in my collection from the approximate period when night in hand would have occurred. I think it tells you just as much.
According to an internet, the actual title is “nite in hand.” It is conducted under an alias so that I will not find out. For, you see, Nite in Hand is alcohol free, so it is likely students will have neither drink* nor feet in hand. Just nite, which doesn’t even exist. Truly bleak!
*unless they consume something highly deviant, such as water.
Oh thank gupin. You saved me from having to put a liquid inside me that didn’t contain an artificially flavored science experiment. Flavored water is a great replacement for something that only isn’t called that because it sounds sleazy.
Barbie shows up the critics who claim she is a bad role model who stereotypes women as dumb and unfit for employment in male-dominated fields by beginning her 2012 presidential campaign immediately following the election. I come in this store at least once every two weeks and I never saw this display until [yesterday], November 29. Today is 15 days from then, I am aware. I haven’t even had a chance to turn my last calendar page yet, with all the unsatisfying futile time-eating rubbish about. I can’t wait to see what month it is.
Vote for Barbie(R) If corporations are people, registered trademarks might as well be, and they might as well run for president.
Also, I heard there was a movie about hobbits being made. Hobbits are regular people who just happen to be short and have a funny name and are skilled at having books about them get turned into expensive films. I thought I had from last April or the year before some big dumb thing written about from it but it turns out to only be a paragraph. I probably thought pah I will finish this later when I have more time. It was the “pah” which doomed the idea, I suspect.
Searching my hard drive for hobbit-related imagery I only pulled up “Hobbit Mario,” a pointless and effort lacking super mario bros. edit in the bland tradition that some gork had put on the internet at some point, so hopefully we can have this entry resolved with a minimal amount of visual distraction.
Back now in April or a year before I inadvertently became aware of a hobbit film, I went through various information about it, regarding changes to the script and actors reprising their roles from the Lord of the Rings series. I momentarily thought “oh that’s neat that Christopher Lee changed his mind about portraying Saruman in the The Hobbit movie,” for an earlier report had suggested he didn’t want to get on an airplane and go back to New Zealand at his age. And then I remembered that he isn’t actually in the The Hobbit story at all. And then I saw that Frodo and Legolas, who also weren’t supposed to be present, had signed on to appear, and it started to remind me of the Star Wars pre-sequels, which were so incapable of developing interesting characters or situations that every scene or so hey look it’s Jabby the Hutt or boy howdy it’s Chewbaccy! They have nothing to do with the story, but the story isn’t any good anyhow so look gee it’s R2D2! Forgive this film’s faults by remembering better movies this director has directed! Because you’ll pay to see it however awful it is!
It already, as of now in April when I wrote this has a 500 million dollar budget; higher than the gross of all but the most successful movies in history. This thing would have to take in half a billion dollars of revenoop even to justify its existence, never-mind make a profit.
I tried to figure out who had been cast as Bowman, the bard, who is brought into the story toward the end moments before suddenly doing something important. As long as we’re changing stuff up, could we bring Bardy in sooner so his significance makes more sense? No I think they’re going to cut him out altogether and have Legolas take his place. It’s not enough that he gets to take the place of the multiple archers who kill the evil elephant in Return of the King and by the way also die in the process? He gets to [do something], too?
I understand wanting to compensate for the lack of characterization in the book, among characters that are allowed to live, anyway. Mr. Tolkein, the writer, liked nothing better than to introduce a villain and kill him in the same chapter. In The Hobbit he actually would kill the villain and THEN tell us who it was. By the way that Goblin who just got slain abruptly after appearing was the great king of all west goblins and was cousin to the other king goblin I killed earlier and has 7 CMA awards and crochets in his spare time. Well now he’s dead. Good work.
As for non-villains, JR introduces 11, I think, dwarves at the start, and then he realizes that he can only think of five distinct dwarf personalities. Thorin, the head dwarf who is obsessed with being a dwarf, Ballin, the more sensible dwarf, Bomburo, who is fat and resents the other dwarves for resenting his fatness,
Feely and Key Lee who are small and function as one character, and all the rest, essentially. Dwarves are short anyway, but these two are smaller than most dwarves but still bigger than hobbits, I surmise. Even pairing them up doesn’t alleviate the clear superfluousness of half the cast because that still leaves three pairs that have no purpose. Two of them start the story with tinder-boxes, which are used for starting fires, but they LOSE their tinder boxes and so become generic “this guy and that guy.”
On the other ehh, this mere jrr token acknowledgement gives more personality to the rabble than a generic label of “the crew” or “the others” would. Maybe they are supposed to be unimportant, but they’re still PEOPLE, goshgrabbim. I think my point is that instead of adding more people we should do more with the people we already have.
Also, this is to be TWO movies? Hobbit had the largest print and sparsest pages of the series, so how does it get two movies? How much of the running time will be the dreary chant-songs that the book occupies chapters worth of space with? How much extra, unnecessary screen time will Gollum get? How much of it will be the gang stopping and feasting for a month every time they meet someone Gandalf knows?
And eat it too, I suppose!
Alright, I see. I didn’t post it because it was stupid. Fortunately, I regularly post stupid things; I merely try not to. I expect to see the film this weekend with family members because I realized that’s the only use I am as company: doing things that don’t require any personal interaction or input. Even if a decent amount of people hypothetically had shown up at my famous art show I wouldn’t have much to say to them apart from “hey I am the person who made that over there.” Thankfully, I can say that in my life time I have made something.
and this wasn’t worth ten minutes! MY ten minutes; I realize you hacked and distributed this in 7. And now I’ve contemplated my response to this imagery for 20 minutes. This will make great mandatory extra deleted scene footage for the dvd release. In fact I should delete it right now.
This imagery was worked into the background on a website where I attempted to look up showing times, with the left on one side and right on the other. Which of these prominent figures is The HoBBIT? Which of them is supposed to be relevant for more than 20% of the story? Which of them is supposed to be in it at all? I get the impression the filmmakers wished they had been making a different film. Or the advertisers wished the filmmakers had wished that.
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I am not quite back in control yet; I nearly had something for Friday but could not bring it into a functionally stupid phase
I tried to write three different updates today, Saturday. And so I finished none of them. I did successfully bathe, however, and almost combed my hair. The goal is to gradually yank out so much that hair that anything over a certain length is gone and the oldest hair yanked out has by then regrown to more a more reasonable length and I never have to cut it again so long as I keep up the process.
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You seem upset. It seems like you’re asking me “AREN’T you READY for the football YET??! It’s been out here WAITING. What are you DOING up there?” I would appreciate more patience and courtesty!
I will spare you my personal bus fare woes and do my best to assume $50 is actually really cheap for interstate round-tripe transportation and admission to a foot-ball contest, even if the thought of allocating 7-9 hours beyond that for such a thing profoundly depresses me. I would prefer to just give you $50 and have you tell me what a great time I had. However it would be more convincing if you said I was miserable the entire time and was nearly arrested for walking in a strange place.
I think it’s your job to tell me, and before I make time to go look at it. Also I think I know who took your question mark.
I thought I had a better picture of this, but I must have merely intended to take one after I brought this newspaper page to my home with the specific purpose of scanning it. Months later I found it jammed beneath my bureau and wondered why I still had it, since surely I had already scanned it, and decided to make waste of it to clear out needless clutter. And then today I looked and it was still there. So:
What it is: a front page notice for an internal feature on the Top Ten 1990s animated series. What could this possibly be bigger news than?
A guide for matching underwear to outer clothing, Useful if somebody throws a cartoon bomb at you that shreds your clothing so that all layers are partially visible but leaves you otherwise intact to complete your day’s mission once you’ve wiped off the blackface soot caricature. Written by an infantile twit who thinks “undies” is a word worth printing under some circumstance. I could understand if the author had some compulsive clothe-matching disorder. In fact that’s about the only context in which I would be curious. I still wouldn’t want to read about it.
Also, Bear in Underwear and Duckling Gets a Cookie?!?!?!? Young readers are being primed for tumblr posting. I think this is the same creative team that handles the university mass emails.
By your admission, everyone does this, so you come into the matter expecting no one to care. I shall now care harder than you deserve.
1. They’re frighteningly drawn, the background music is annoying, it employed one of the voices from Country Crock ads. Don’t ever challenge me to dislike something. That’s even the one 90s cartoon on the list I ever watched because I wanted to.
2. Great, you watched the intro. I couldn’t get past the smug saxaphone music. I didn’t know music COULD be smug until Hey Arnold. That music just thinks it sums up urban living. Hey we’re just trying to get by, man. You don’t need no fancy swimming pool and fax machine man. We got the music and the feeling and the bonds of our community. I want to punch that music for being so satisfied with itself and its universal life lessons that consistently left me bored and unmotivated and its infallible traditions mixing all the worst of the old country and the old religion that breed monotony and ensure anyone who’s a bit peculiar will be most unwelcome. I remember I went to a school (Cedarhurst) with “community meetings” in 199x and those were comprised of the most evil people I’d ever met talking about their feelings. It was disgusting. And all because of Hey Arnold’s smirky saxaphones. The cartoon was pretty lousy, too. That’s probably why the Cedarhurst students watched and imitated South Park instead.
Also, fire your typesetter. Not because of the truly basic error committed in letting the latter portion of a hyphenated word be on a line by itself, but because I don’t believe you employ a typesetter and am disparaging you in a roundabout fashion.
3. Here are some names. They prove nothing. You think you’re doing a public service just by reminding me they exist. You’re like those people who upload static pictures of copyrighted characters to youtube and only ever contribute the commentary “memories.” Remember that time we looked at the glowing box?
4. Was it hard to find utterly mundane dialog to quote that makes no sense out of context that will do nothing to inspire any interest in what you’re talking about? That’s only barely odd.
5. Ha ha ascots are hilarious, right? Just saying “ascot” gets you a Jimmy Kimmel pass on your comedy routine. You ought to add a treatise on the box art for the first Megaman game and FOR SCIENCE for science good measurement (measuring is more of a mathematical matter). I consulted my list of topics that are always safe but I was distracted when a ferret with an unusually detailed manly facial expression rode by on a unicycle.
6. Yeah those were the days, weren’t they. Why say anything? You have NOTHING. A crouton could do your job. That program is notable for definitively signalling the era of cartoons inspired exclusively by stereotypes of existent cartoons with no connection to nature or real human emotion. Nobody ever needs to learn to draw ever again. Splat sproing eye-poit awkward silence catch-phrase exaggerated vocal intonation blue-tinted glasses. Or maybe I just thought it was ugly and never really watched it. My disdain for it is also a stereotype, of what I usually hate cartoons from this period for. Which I could be criticized for, and would therefore be a more intellectually stimulating use of this space.
7. All you got from the program is that the titular character has a food service job?
8. Good work, you actually gave me some information. However, you didn’t even notice that the main character on the previous show was a sponge so a protagonist of unlikely biological composition may not be an inherent designation of quality.
9. Evidently this is not an animation at all but an audio recording which brought shame onto a lyrical void-filler from the 1950s. I assume Ray Mundo is the asteroid-headed cavern-mouthed round-toothed goon on the show who writes utterly daft newspaper columns. Rocket Power’s inclusion is the most promising aspect of the list, though, as far as sincere or unique thoughts go, because prior to now I’d never heard of anybody liking Rocket Power at all.
10. “enough said” is NEVER enough, unless you say nothing at all, but you already didn’t. You shouldn’t have needed nine practice attempts to realize you were irrelevant.
It is an article that computes the value of an obscure character by the amount of crummy internet image-repeating non-gags based on it. I should be as annoyed by it but I never found it waiting for me beside the entrance at a place that I paid money to attend.
Is it fair of me to criticize the cartoon list without presenting a counter-list? Yes. It is nothing less than benevolent of me to spare the internet one more arbitrarily enumerated countdown. I’m not sure there are even 10 1990s cartoons that I’ve watched enough to make a definitive rank for, much less that I liked. I remember watching lots of Ninja Turtles during the period but it would greatly sadden me to presume there are at most nine things better than that. Hey Arnold definitely isn’t one of them. I realize the ninja turtles moving picture program premiered in 1987, but this author’s criteria seem to only require that something aired in the 1990s, which makes the limited range of entries seem all the more myopic. I want to see this bofis’ top ten 1990s video games list. It’s probably all the Tony Hawk titles, Croc and one of Namco’s annual full-price rereleases of Ms. Pac Man.
This is the editor’s note. this is the part of the newspaper that is at the sole discretion of the person in charge. If it’s assembled from reader or staff input, that would be less of a non-story (and so some of my ire less justifiable, but it would also be less cruel and personal and thus equally justifiable) but it doesn’t say even that. “Dear readers, there is something important I have to tell you: my parents locked out all but 2 channels and I couldn’t find any hints in a cartoon about people wearing bell-bottom pants who drive around in a psychedelic-colored van that place it firmly and unquestionably in the 1960s because my upbringing was so sheltered and I just take pictures from wherever I feel like.” The image adorning the section is watermarked “g99fr9Ak.d9viAntArt.com” and filled with what appear to be stock images or pointlessly on-model renditions of various characters from the 2 cartoon channels.
There it is, that didn’t take long. I’d love to tell the artist this school newspaper just ganked it off her page without permission, but evidently this wasn’t the first such incident and it’s just a heap of boring copies of hideous characters anyhow (also, now it’s on MY page, and twice). This appears to be, by far, the most popular work in her gallery, which is comprised otherwise of realistic human portraits dissimilar to this (apart from them also being close copies).
I should have taken advantage of this to complain about how offended I was, but then I’d probably be invited to write the subsequent edition of the newspaper, and then I would have to motivate myself with the horrifying thought that somebody might be reading it regularly.
I generally do not associate with readers.
Everybody knows how much I love the website “tumblr.” Everybody is also occasionally confident of erroneous information. “Tumblr radar” is a section of the website layout for identifying “hot” circulating objects, as a convenient and benevolent means to ensure popular stuff gets more popular. However, in practice it generally just shows really bad artwork from a limited range of grotesque styles.
This is the first thing I remember having a problem with. “why the heck is this artless piece of trash on the ‘radar’.png” I asked, unaware in May of 2011 that this was the radar’s primary function and that we would continue to regard each other in the same way for the duration of our relationship. I had a minor rainbow breakdown in November of that year, and didn’t even need to incorporate this picture because it’s so consistently done and unoriginal and so consistently praised for being original.
I’ve seen rainbows come out of every possible orifice, but almost nobody ever eats one. Although it is difficult to tell which direction this one is travelling in, the idle teeth suggest involuntary action. For decades the Skittles company has invited us to taste the rainbow but never to overindulge to the point that we can no longer contain it within ourselves. This picture is “original” in the respect that the protagonist does not have a horse-like shape.
1-6-2012
Afterward I had this labeled “tumblr radar tops itself by tunneling beneath the worst thing it showed me previously.” I don’t seem to have kept a record of them prior to this. Now I reevaluate my position because though it took absolutely no effort and brings me no joy to look at, i can at least swallow a piece of food while it is visible. Even if it is a rainbow excretion orgy it’s being run on Atari 2600 hardware before they figured out how to make those gradient backgrounds.
1/7/2012
This is literally a picture of typed characters. Why do i bother? Even the infinite monkeyss at typewriters would be disgusted to have this shoved at them as an example of success.
1-22
I’m not proud of you for remembering something that somebody else said! Even if that person’s name rhymes.
3-19
Oh I just noticed that says “explodingdog” on it. I’m not looking to know what that is but I’ve seen that particular random combination of words before. Sure that and toasty frog and flying omelette and dresden kodak and
There’s no subject matter that people who can’t draw and can’t think like better than coffee (except rainbows issuing from bodily orifices and food with faces). Coffee + bad art + high exposure + underlining how lame it is = MORE exposure.png. Yes the whole internet must know that somebody approves of coffee (and bagels, the world’s least exciting food after wheatabix). Rather than stand up to their expensive addiction or peacefully coexist with it they gleefully pay homage to it. It’s the exact same way cigarettes were treated in the 1950s. Except cigarettes are only expensive now because of unfair taxes on them; coffee is obscenely overpriced just because the people who sell it feel like obscenely overpricing it. Maybe 20 years from now there will be anti-coffee campaigns, taxes and lawsuits and trendly sorts will have a replacement religion based around waiting in line every singular day-length-period to pay to have themselves punched in the stomach while experts assure everyone there are no longterm health detriments to doing that. I eat ice cream because I like the way it tastes, but I’m not nearly proud of myself for doing so.
Have you heard? I quit.
5-30
If you’re too late to be fashionably quirky, you can always get by on pointlessly disgusting (but don’t forget the teeth). An entire generation of animators who watched Ren and Stimpy and never found a fault in it have proven that.
At this point I considered that it might be necessary for me to disable the radar entirely. Tumblr provides no means to do that, but browser extensions have been designed to do the deed. I never installed one because I also considered that I would probably write something like this and might want a better horror selection at such a time. I hate/appreciate me. Having fulfilled that, I have today concealed the thing. I am a questionable entity.
6-7
What the orp even IS this thing? I had to look at the large size version to figure that out, and I still couldn’t tell. Is it cells under a microscope? Is it a geographical map with the color balance altered? Is it a dirty kitchen floor? Is it a spoiled wheatabix? What I do know is that it looks like nothing I want to see, and digging and doing research to find out what it IS wouldn’t change that. However I suspect if I went outside and dug I’d eventually find something this reminded me of.
7-6-2012
I see this same artist or somebody utterly indistinguishable far too often. The same hemispheric line mouths with the same large dot eyes directly at the ends, the same parallel, turned-on-the-side feet that would be incapable of bearing weight. If you see a piece of food or a popular electronic trinket with limbs and a face it’ll probably be one of these, especially if it’s printed on a shirt. And fine, one person can have a style. But copying it bothers me. I consider art “better” during the ages of guilds and mass apprenticeship because people who could copy but not create had a greater standard to silently adhere to. Unfortuantely all they were allowed to paint were Jesus and hills. Now people are free to draw any sort of things, such as bands they’ve been ordered their whole lives to think are great. Or at least as long as their recent marketing surge has persisted. Do you remember what a huge deal it was when the Beatles songs were at last at first available on utines? Even though Beetols have had every single album of theirs available at every single record store since they existed? And that even stuff that they didn’t finish or remember they’d made was just as hard to not find? Well I hope not; I’ve currently forgotten if I put that complaint in an entry already and I’d hate you to know I was repeating myself.
When did people get the idea that it was alright to draw feet like that? 1493bc in Thutmose’s tomb? This is the “I’m about to fall over and twist my ankle” pose. Hopefully those little saran wrap box toes don’t brush up against any flesh in the process.
In fairness to the radar, somebody reblogged this at me, after several thousand other people expressed, I’ll assume, approval. I reduced the size for the sake of consistency and a misguided belief that nobody has a problem with me copying their pictures if I keep them tiny, but I should make clear that for every basic large natural detail that mystified the artist there is a tiny fully rendered round tooth protruding from the mouth (and then a strip of three stuck together). These people love to draw teeth. I had to stop looking at my queue entirely because even people I liked invariably liked stuff I hated enough to tell everybody about it with such regularity that I could no longer look at my flow of updates at all without getting so mad that I wrote a brooding paragraph about it each and every time. This wasn’t even one of those things, and look at what a state I’ve entered over it.
8-14
Ah great, back to getting mad at people I have no tangential relationship to. Is there a law against being able to draw and getting on here? I figured out from the comments that one or both of these floating torsos is from a television show. I couldn’t tell what and didn’t care to remember. The drawing is still not a thing of such magnificence to be broadcast all across the land. You don’t need to upload everything you thoughtlessly doodled on an envelope during a telephone conversation. The second one at least shows an attempt to be done better, but it comes across as creepy because there’s so much no detail and suddenly heavy cheek lines, a bloody-lipped semi smile and eyes that don’t appear to be facing any direction. I suppose it’s progress that I have a clue where to start complaining, rather than being baffled into irrelevance..
9-yesterday
I dare you to put a picture by somebody who can draw on there. Although now that I have turned the thing off I’ll never know if my dare is received, and thus it may be. I am selfless and beneficial to society. And so tonight I will sleep and not worry what innocent person I’ve needlessly wronged by complaining about what they made and exhibited for free and never asked to have shoved in my business.
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Friday the 28 – Saturday the 29 interval: Good news! I have a word heap that will be ready to display in the morning, which needs merely to be proofread with a mind clear enough to see errors but not enough to know better. The bad news is that I was kidding about that being good news.
I was thinking another day well wax my eyebrows is that character creepy (yes (although I was kidding about the eyebrows. If I knew I had the power to command you I would advocate a less abrasive form of eyebrow removal)). But we must do our best to preserve it.
Otherwise diapered, presumably for good reason, fiends may escape. Speaking of weird fruit, since the digression I started writing after looking at the url on this box quickly became too unsettling to be salvageable, here comes an apple.
I could not help being amused by coming across it but I wonder what I’d think if there were a “delusional genderless fag that can’t stop picking at sunburnt skin brand” of pancake mix. Probably a painful sensitivity to physical sensations and all forms of movement.
A better question about apples: why doesn’t this one eat itself out of existence? How can we protect our kids from trouser-eschewing apple beasts that are the same size as them?
There is nothing fancy about forgetting to wear pants!
I hope this picture was supposed to convince me that I erred in speaking that because it didn’t and this lizard’s failures brings me satisfaction.
I prefer not to ponder what if anything adorns this creature’s legs. Hopefully it lacks legs altogether. Unless that allows it to fly. I may not sleep again.
I don’t understand how people can reserve scorn for Justing Beepy Eeper when that “catch a grenade for ya” guy is still on the loose.
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Perhaps you have wondered what, apart from my championship ego-mania and being the first person to ever have a relationship go badly have prevented me from maintaining a regular update schedule. And perhaps not; I’ve had quite enough of it.
It started out easily enough. I was to create a “series” of painted images with some sort of unifying theme. I couldn’t think of one in the time I was given because it coincided with the inadequate time I was given to do several other tasks I wasn’t qualified for. I decided to show a pointless creature going on a pointless journey, which would make the lack of a point the point. I was not enthusiastic about that idea but also figured that I could change my mind and construct a point while I was making the first. I could not.
The second image is a version I made on the computer first to assist in making the first actual painting, so in fact this came first but I chose to show it second. It occurs to me that I have referred to this image and the third image, the second painting, as simply “the second,” and that is most confusing. Ah fiddlesticks.
People on the internet statistically liked the fake unfinished one I did in a few hours about as much as the real one that I did across two weeks, but as the fake one is more directly compatible with the internet, and I’m used to not being impressed with what people on the internet are impressed with anyhow this is probably a personal triumph. Though I say “people on the internet” with a derogatory implication I am obviously not talking about you. You’re so pathetic I know you couldn’t handle it.
Nonethefewer the painting looks nice enough in person. Impressive considering that at 24×18 inches, it was four times 11×9, the size I’m used to not being comfortable working at. It even merely looks like I didn’t feel like mixing paint, rather than my having no idea how to do it.
The specifications of the second image are the same, apart from being perpendicular. I do not feel this functions as well, overall. I am accustomed to making pictures with horizontal orientations, two dimensional layouts, stage perspectives, in deserts, that have nothing to do with the pictures that came before them. I am accustomed to snow but not recently. The only things I was comfortable with were the balloon and the goat, those being the most out of place elements.
The biggest difference between this painting and the first is that regardless of art website approval points nobody but me cares about the first actually looks better than the grubby computer version I made to assist in the painting’s creation. Assisting its superiority was that I was so preoccupied with inventing a resolution to appear in the next painting that I forgot I didn’t need to compulsively obey the pixel arrangement. I made it to help and now it’s just being a jerk. Also I never arrived at a resolution.
This painting I did not even want to go to the trouble to scan in 5 parts. That does it slightly better justice than digital camera interpretations, but I do not feel it is entitled to justice. It is a reprobate ne’erdowell. I didn’t want to scan it until I had fixed the parts that I didn’t like, but once I had done that it would be another month before I could place that into the scanner without damaging one or both. Though I can’t say that neither deserves it.
Initially I wanted a sunset, but then that would mean the figures would be backlit, which I imagined was undesirable. So I had to depict the side of the sky opposite from a sunset, the boring side. It being still pinkish but less interesting. It didn’t occur to me that sunlight reflects, rather powerfully, off snow-covered surfaces, and further that nobody cares what direction cartoon characters are lit from. Also that this goat is in fact a sorceror of black magic who is immune to light sources.
The picture on the whole needs more “light.” However, at the time, I lacked the time to give it light before I started the third painting. Now I have the time but despise the deed. Anyway here comes another.
This one, thankfully, benefut a great amount from the scan procedure. I again tried to take photographs of it, but the noirish-mixture reacted to light in a consistently inconsistent manner apart from the other colors. However, the bland uniformity it takes from the scan isn’t so splendid either. Alas, lamentation, woe and whatnot.
Since it was supposed to be a “series,” and I knew I had no goal, the only way to grasp at cohesion was to put as many elements as possible in all three images. By the third, this largely prevented me from including anything else! Yet it is clear that I tried. It’s clear I tried because I said I tried and if I was going to lie about myself I’d tell better ones than that.
And now I’m annoyed at myself for not working the goat into this one. The goat seems reliable.
Aw beets you know you’ve run out of ideas when you have to put your dorks in space. Even the Leprechaun and the Critters didn’t take their pointy-toothed ghostly floating heads there until their fourth respective, respectable films. I can at least assure you that my fourth and fifth paintings are already “done” and neither conspicuously takes place in The Hood.
Oh now we’ve done it. Wonderful. My paintings officially remind me of Rygar. Now you know the real reason I’ve been depressed the last few weeks.
Moon scenes work when they are desolate and peaceful. My paineding is incapable of being peaceful because it is full of little objects of all different colors (and also that honorable faceless warriors the likes of Rygar are unemployed during peace time). The lighting doesn’t make sense because I imagined most of the light was coming off the earth-like planet orb, and so the shadows should go away from it. Yet if they did then the foreground figure would, once again, be backlit which wasn’t what I wanted. My solution was to light the characters from the front and the terrain from the back. Which isn’t a solution at all because it just looks like I have no idea how light works. Rather, I have a weak, ineffectual grasp. And yetter if the Earth is lit that’s only because the sun shines at it, and the earth’s light is a mere reflection, so in fact the shadows should be reversed. And yettest to face the sun directly while in the minimal lunar atmosphere would be painfully blinding and there’s no way this creature can read its map. Yes that’s supposed to be a map. Although it is lost so clearly it cannot read its map. Conclusion: This isn’t one.
As for the sky itself, again realistic references were a problem. None of them showed any stars. None of them showed any galaxies or color variation. The stuff that makes space fun to look at. The stuff that makes space fun to fill!
Here is a photograph of the stupid moon car taken on the moon. Very grey, no stars, no atmosphere, painful unfiltered light, obscure shadows.
Here is a crummy online representation of a painting that somebody more competent and compositionally imaginative than myself made prior to technology allowing cameras to go to the moon to take photographs from on it. Lots of stars, reasonable light, lots of shadow, lots of temperature. If I’d looked at this kind of thing instead of photographs I’d have done fine.
In fact I DID look at made up silliness but only for the sake of copying and didn’t consider the thought involved in the collective context within which I located the object to be copied. So I’m a hypocrite and a lousy copier. I’m also a terrible dancer.
Fahhhb. And for all I know this kind of thing is more accurate anyway and the cameras just mess stuff up when used outside on sunny days.
In which event my painting is still true to life. Life is often disappointing.
except when it’s worse.
Which being consistent with my expectations is not a disappointment at all and therefore not an exception. Which means Windows 95 isn’t going to lock up today, which is very good news, considering that I’ve already condemned myself to Rygar dreams after I post this.
It’s a pity that I make this website entirely for free. If I was paid for the deed, I’d have long since been fired for missing deadlines and then I wouldn’t feel compelled to do it anymore.
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Well I’m glad somebody does.
Maybe then I’ll be allowed to stop.
And the commercial breaks themselves. Yarp, Family Guy’s still ugly. Simpsons are still stagnant/animated at way too high a frame rate for how ugly they are. With the money you spend on these superfluous in-betweening you could get some much nicer artwork, but you never would because this show hasn’t evolved a scrap since I stopped watching it in 1992. Glee’s still grinsufferable. Aw grapes a kidz bop choir singing an irritating pandery song about New York City that I hated even when the real singer sang it. You want to be a millionaire? Be a skinny lady and sing about how great New York City is ha ha GOT EM. I do not miss network television. I do not miss bars. They get along so well together, they probably wouldn’t notice if I stayed home. I also do not miss not complaining about these things. I’ve said all this stuff before and better. Now it’s boring. I need NEW stupid things to inspire me (“these lights” also not cutting it).
Isn’t there supposed to be some government agency in place that keeps the word “natural” out of the vocabulary of nugget peddlers? Even for Florida, a land where a town can be a wholly owned subsidiary of the disney corporation and be built on land that shouldn’t exist (and probably won’t in two years) I think that language is pushing it.
You know, consumer health advocate’s fundamental problem with chicken nuggets isn’t the chicken. I can imagine the meeting…
what can we do to make fruit less wholesome?
Have you tried making it into nuggets?
Good show!
In fact it’s such a good show I declare it shall be a mini-series. This builds suspenses for the next episode and has the added benefit of letting me go to my bed before 2 am when I have junk to do in the morning. I’ll talk about nuggets more next time. Unless I talk about something else.
Ah ha but here you are wrong, my good warlord! I suffer for my rest!
MAN, sleeping in beds is SO HARD.
And now, good NIGHT. IF that’s even POSSIBLE!